


Little Devil

by Sinner_Writes



Series: Fiends and Finagling [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Big brother Dream, Demons, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, IT'S ALL FUCKING PLATONIC YOU GREMLINS, Manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, Surprise Adoption, Unhealthy Relationships, but like. in a fucked up way, infantilization, p l a t o n i c - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinner_Writes/pseuds/Sinner_Writes
Summary: In which Dream is a demon.A demon who is currently brooding.It's a good thing that there's a desperate and lonely child right there, right?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Fiends and Finagling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051712
Comments: 44
Kudos: 671





	Little Devil

To be fair, Dream had absolutely wanted to destroy the boy's life at first.

The damned brat had _dared_ to try and use what he cared about against him. And sure, he had (mostly) moved on from the horse's death, but that was no excuse. The mortal had attempted to hold power over him, which was completely unacceptable. The child had yet to learn his place, and the demon was more than willing to teach it to him.

Of course, then the boy _actually_ broke.

It wasn't nearly as fun as Dream had thought it would be -- instead of going down in a flaming spiral of revenge, the kid had gotten suicidal. The boy blamed himself, and while it absolutely was his fault, it was _boring._ The demon himself had to keep him from jumping into a pit of lava and ending his own final life. The whole thing was pathetic, really.

Dream didn't feel bad -- the child had reaped what he had sown. It wasn't pity that kept him around the child, acting as some sort of support. It was a desire to keep him alive to suffer, to destroy everything that he would ever work for even in exile.

But the thing is, not even demons were immune to primal urges.

What most mortals don't know is that demons don't reproduce through carnal means. Instead, they turn existing mortals into demons as well. Children, mostly, as offspring are important to any race. Not all demons feel the need to do so -- an immortal has no need for children, even if the goal of a species is to spread. So, some members of his race had little to no urge to reproduce. But Dream? Dream, who loved to meddle in the lives of mortals, keeping them as happy and unified as their temperaments would allow?

Dream had an _extreme_ disposition for brooding.

This wasn't the first time it had happened, and it most likely wouldn't be the last. A few centuries back, he had almost turned a young girl -- at least, until her pathetic parents told the church, and though the exorcist was technically powerless, he figured that it was more effort than he was willing to put in.

But now? Now, he had a lonely, desperate, and _pitiful_ child right here, chased away from all that he held dear.

Tommy would be the perfect whelp.

\---

Tommy wasn't sure when the changes had started.

He had gotten incredibly pale throughout the months he'd been in exile, but had assumed it to be poor health. And since it was fairly gradual, he didn't realize how light his skin had become until he found it to be paler than the sands of the beach he lived by. Was he dying? He kind of hoped so. The tiredness he had been feeling lately seemed to back up that theory. All that Tommy had wanted to do lately was just sleep. But at the same time, he was never able to close his eyes without feeling paranoid for some odd reason.

Maybe that's why he had assumed that his longer ears and canines were hallucinations. It's not like Dream ever pointed them out.

Speaking of Dream, the masked man had also gotten incredibly touchy with him. Not in a creepy way, mind you -- He'd just always be cleaning up Tommy's messy hair, or patching up even the most minor of scrapes and bruises. His hands were always gentle, so unlike the ones that had dragged him away from his country. They made Tommy feel safe.

Maybe that's why he finds himself nodding off when Dream combs his untamed hair one night.

"Little one, are you tired?" The older man's voice startles him awake. But he's still exhausted, which is why he figures that he imagined the nickname. "Have you not been sleeping?"

"'M fine," Tommy replies, still a bit groggy. It's hard to keep his eyes open right now, especially when his lingering paranoia is nowhere to be found. Dream chuckles, maneuvering the boy until he's laying with his head on the older's lap.

"Sleep," he gently encourages, running a hand through blond hair. "You're safe, little one." There's that nickname again. But Tommy is tired, and even if the phrase makes him feel small, it's somehow nice. It makes him feel safe.

As he drifts off into unconsciousness, he can vaguely register a pair of lips brushing against his forehead.

\---

All that Tommy seems to do nowadays is sleep.

That's how Dream knows his transformation is working. After all, immortality is hard on the body at first, especially when one's features are changing. But his whelp is handling it well. His skin is as pale as fine white china, so similar to Dream's own. His ears are a bit larger though, and flop down adorably. Maybe he'll grow into them, maybe he won't. Either way, Dream's child is practically perfect. And sure, maybe that's the brooding talking, but Tommy is so eager for physical attention that he's more than content to sleep with his head on the demon's lap.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

Eventually, his boy wakes up, and from the way his blue eyes softly glow in the dim light of the tent, Dream knows that his whelp is completely turned. Even so, he can't help but gently run a hand through his child's hair.

"Are you feeling rested, little one?" Dream asks. It's rhetorical -- after a month and a half of sleeping, there's no way that his boy can feel anything other than well rested.

"I... Yeah." His whelp sounds confused, and whether it's because of the nickname or the sudden energy is up for debate. Still, he doesn't bring it up, so it's probably fine. He ruffles his boy's blond locks.

Tommy gets up, making his way towards the entrance of the tent. He opens it to the light of day...

...And shrieks in pain before shutting it in a hurry.

"What the FUCK?!" He hisses, rubbing at where the light had hit his face. Dream is by his whelp's side in an instant, holding him close and shushing him.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, little one. Shush, you're okay." And for the first time in decades, the demon removes his mask in order to press a kiss to his child's forehead. "It's normal, I promise."

"What's _happening_ to me?" His whelp's voice breaks in fear, and though it breaks his heart, Dream pulls away to look at him. Gently, he cups his boy's face.

"You've become something better, my little devil."

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty fucked up, but GOD was it fun to write.


End file.
